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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224549">The Golden Palace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemiseamoon/pseuds/artemiseamoon'>artemiseamoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vikings [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vikings (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemiseamoon/pseuds/artemiseamoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Seraphine (ofc)  adjusts to life as Price Olegs mistress. As everything becomes predictable the arrival of a Viking King feeds her desire for excitement.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Original Character(s), Prince Oleg/ oc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vikings [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: Viking era fic so canon topics like kidnapping, that's about it for this chapter though. If you don’t like stuff like this, skip this one. I generally do not write non-con, for many reasons, so made it that the Ofc is kind of into Oleg but also hates him. Sex scenes may be angsty but still consesual. All chapters will contain specific warnings at the top. Overall this fic is:  Adult 18 +  only, Mature content, and Sexual Content</p><p>Pairing: Multi! Oleg x Ofc , Ivar x Ofc, eventual Hvitserk x Ofc </p><p>Author note: This was originally just going to be a smutty one shot but now I want to make it a story. Seraphina’s home land made up for this fic, but it’s akin to Morocco aesthetically. There will be time jumps in this story and it's not meant to be historically accurate or canon to the show.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Part 1: Blood Red Moon and a Winters Sky</p><p>Seraphine knew this was coming; the dreams started a full cycle before his arrival. They were always the same.<br/>
Overcast skies; the blood-red moon above. A chill in the usually tropical air. The thunderous pounding of horses hooves against the ground preceded by a crimson mist; figures of men upon the horses with strangely shaped dark hats about their heads. They scream in a language unknown to her. In the background a laugh, a laugh-filled with menace and dark brown eyes looming in the clouds belonging to a face she could not see.<br/>
This day was coming. The kingdom knew this as the neighboring lands were hit with the plagues of war and terror. They spent months planning exit strategies, defense, and recovery. It seemed to pay off in the beginning. They were winning against the intruders of the night.<br/>
Then the fates turned. Since Seraphine was a child, she saw three visions for herself. The one in which she was in the process of fulfilling; the marriage to the very unsavory and rather repulsive King, a great ally her father and people needed. Second, she leaves the place she calls home to set off on her own. Or third, being uprooted and taken to a new and strange place.<br/>
At the start of the battle, she told herself she would leave. To avoid the marriage despite the wealth and status it would bring. The wedding was to be in 2 moons time before the intruders came. Though, as the battle continued and things began to look dire, she knew the third vision was increasing in strength. Being her father's only daughter, Seraphine was one of the first to be hidden away for safety.<br/>
However, staying locked away did not sit well with her. A group of people was assigned the task to save the young, help them escape. If the young could be free of this, they could rebuild and start all over again.<br/>
Seraphine knew her life was at risk to lend a hand for this cause, but their lives mattered more than her own in the grand scale of things. This was the deciding factor. She escapes her cozy hideout, past the guards to help with the escape.<br/>
As the group successfully got the last of the young out, the brutal men dressed in heavy black and furs gained on them. It was chaos. Breaking away from the group Seraphine makes her way to an alley leading back to the underground tunnels to the palace.<br/>
Nearing the corner, and overcome by sadness at the state of her home, Seraphine is distracted. As she rounds the corner, she runs right into something, that something she would realize was a man.<br/>
Standing tall and still like a statue, his unusual dress made it clear he was one of them. Seraphine takes a step back. He grabs her left forearm, she can see a large sharp weapon in his other hand.<br/>
A sinister smile dances on his lips, making his dark features all the darker.<br/>
“What do we have here?” He asks in a language she doesn't understand.<br/>
“Let me go!”<br/>
Seraphine yells in her own language as she pulls free from his grip. The strange man acts quick, pulling her back to him. This time her back to his as he clasps his free arm tight around her torso. He leans in close, she can feel his hot breath on her ear and the side of her neck.<br/>
“Come. Let’s go home, pet.” He whispers.<br/>
Again, she can’t understand him. She looks up at his face and realizes his eyes are the same eyes from the vision. The eyes looking in the background belonging to a face she could not see.<br/>
…<br/>
This place was cold, the chill felt deep down in her bones. Unable to stop her shivering, Seraphine feared she would fall sick or even die in such harsh conditions.<br/>
The man with the starless eyes layered her in furs. She assumed the words he spoke to her were to reassure her she would get used to this, but she couldn’t be sure.<br/>
Upon arrival, his home seemed bleak. A large looming settlement among white skies. Cold tones of grey marking the walls and buildings. The townspeople dressed similarly to the men draped in heavy layers. Was there life here? What about the Sun? Did dance and laughter exist in such a severe place?<br/>
Once they reach his palace, a burst of color appears. High ornate walls and designs. Elaborate archways and fabrics. Was the palace containing the only color of this place? The appearance of color and gold warmed her chilled bones up just a little; it was a sign of life and something similar to home.<br/>
The man, after insisting she drink some tea, takes her on a tour; speaking to her in his language while holding her arm tight the entire time. Two looming guards behind them like shadows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cruel Winds and Warm Nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Seraphines first day at the palace continues.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*This fic is Adult 18 +  only, Mature content, and Sexual Content. Multi-relationship<br/>Warning this chapter: Contains some sexual touching on Olegs part cause hes being thirsty but no sex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the tour,  Oleg shows Seraphine to her room. It's a large, well decorated, and surprisingly comfortable room. Much more space than she needed. Through large windows, she can see the stark difference in life inside and outside the palace.<br/>
The awareness of the two guards outside the door doesn't ease her worry any less, only increases it. Having two looming shadows watching over her, plus the harsh weather outside, made the reality of the situation even grimmer.<br/>
Seraphine only has a brief time alone before Oleg sends two servants to her. Seraphine didn’t know what they wanted or why they were there. It’s only when they usher her to the large adjoining bathing room does she understand.<br/>
The large copper bath is almost golden, fitting with the overall theme of her bedroom, a visual display of ivory and gold. Seraphine now understood the sound of water she heard close by, seeing the large tub filled with water, flowers, and aromatic oil of some kind. She assumed this was where he kept his women, and perhaps another poor soul was next door preparing for a bath. Instead, this bath was being drawn for her.<br/>
One of the servants was kinder than the other, the tall blonde one was severe and a bit heavy-handed. In contrast, the shorter one with curly hair was compassionate, gentle.  Seraphine decided, once she got a hold of this place and picked up the language, she would make it a point to speak with the shorter woman.<br/>
After the bath, the two women help her dress in a beautiful and heavy gown. They then style her in expensive jewels and do her hair. All the while, Seraphine studies them, their expressions, the way they interacted with each other. Once their job is done, Seraphine is handed to her guards who proceed to escort her downstairs.<br/>
Once they pass the threshold of the dining hall, the Prince awaits them with a large grin on his lips. Dressed in a very fine black and gold tunic, he was very easy on the eyes. Still, she keeps her guard up.<br/>
“Ravishing!” He gleams at the sight of her.<br/>
The guards take their place at either side of the door as the Prince makes his way to Seraphine. Taking hold of her hands, he extended her arms wide to get a full look at her.<br/>
“Seraphine,” he places a hand on his chest, “you’ve taken my breath away.”<br/>
After admiring her, Oleg guides her to sit on the soft deep red cushion with gold trimming. As the cushion molds around her shape, Oleg linger behind her; running his hands up and down the length of her arms.<br/>
Once he’s satisfied, he sits beside her, close enough that their arms are touching. There is a youthful yet manic excitement about him. Oleg pours two glasses of wine and places one before her.<br/>
“Though there are benefits to your silence, I’ve secured a translator for you.”<br/>
As the Prince captures her eyes once more, Seraphine can't help but wonder, who was he really? Something was unsettling about the handsome Prince, a danger that radiated off him like a scent.<br/>
Seraphine wasn’t a naive woman, she knew exactly what this was. But, if she was able to decode Oleg, to figure him out, maybe she could tilt this situation to her favor. To do that, she had to find some control. Being helpless and at his mercy was not an option.<br/>
The Prince, without breaking eye contact, makes a gesture with his hand to the guards. First, the shuffling sound comes, then a voice in distress. One of Oleg's guards drags in an older man by the back of his collar.<br/>
Oleg proceeds to rub her back again as he continues to speak, “It was difficult to find someone who knew both our languages. I began my search once I knew I was going to raid. Now that I’ve found you, he gets to keep his life” the wine goblet still in his other hand, Oleg raises it to his lips, “I was going to kill him after the battle. You have given his life purpose. You, my pet, will learn my language as I learn yours.”<br/>
Seraphine bunches her brows and looks to the older man, then back at Oleg. She couldn't help but feel annoyed he continued to talk to her, knowing she understood not a word of what he was saying.<br/>
The guard shoves the man down into a seat across from them. Before the man can get his wits about him, Oleg starts shouting.<br/>
“Well, what are you waiting for? Translate!” The boom in his voice makes her flinch slightly. The Prince notices, he attempts to calm her by brushing his hand against her cheek.<br/>
Seraphine can see the older man is nervous, she can feel his fear.<br/>
“M-miss,” he stammers in her language, “I am to be your translator.”<br/>
Relief washes over her, finally, someone she can speak to. Leaning over the table, Seraphine’s eyes search his for answers, “where am I?”<br/>
“Kiev.”
“Kiev?”
“A long way from home Miss.”<br/>
“Who is this man?”<br/>
“The Prince, Oleg the Prophet.”<br/>
“Prophet?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
Seraphine signs audibly, Oleg is very invested and watches them closely. She takes a pause, then continues, “what does The Prophet want? Aside from the obvious.”<br/>
“He wants you to learn his language, and him yours.”<br/>
“No!” She surprises herself with her raised tone, Oleg makes a face she cannot see, “ it's the only thing we have. We can't teach him. But, I must know his.”<br/>
“It is not an easy language to learn.”<br/>
“I will try my best.”<br/>
Oleg’s impatience is felt before he voices it, he slams his goblet down on the table, “What is she saying?<br/>
“She wants to know why she is here, where she is.”<br/>
Oleg grabs her chin, making her face him, “You are home.”<br/>
The man translates, she shakes her head no, starting head-on at Oleg.<br/>
Oleg  laughs in response, “She is defiant!.”<br/>
Seraphine, in a bold move, grabs Oleg's hand and removes it from her chin. She then turns her attention back to the translator.<br/>
“What is he saying now?”<br/>
The translator looks at Oleg nervously, then back at her, “He likes you.”<br/>
“Clearly.” She comments with spice on her tongue. Picking up the wine glass, she takes a sip, “What is your name?”<br/>
“Liam.”<br/>
“Liam, I’m Seraphine.”<br/>
...<br/>
During the rest of dinner, Seraphine mostly ignores Oleg, which makes him upset. At one point, he even sends Liam away in anger. It was clear to her, The Prince would need a lot of attention.<br/>
Once dinner is over, Oleg brings Seraphine to another room where two people play music for them. As they are being entertained, Seraphine feels a small sense of calm. Music was a big part of her life back home. She took deep joy in singing and playing instruments. Being able to be in the company of music provided her the calmest moment of the day.<br/>
After the performance, Oleg escorts Seraphine to her bedroom. Once the doors close behind them, the calm from the music subsides as anxiety returns. Was this the moment? She knew this would come eventually. She hoped to have more time. As her thoughts race, Oleg stands behind her, undoing her hair from the high updo with a surprisingly gentle touch.<br/>
“I want you, Seraphine. I’ll try to control myself. Once I finally have you in my bed, “ his left-hand wraps  around her waist as he turns her to face him, “I want you to beg for me.”<br/>
Seraphine doesn’t need to understand him to know what he was saying. The desire in his eyes, in the way he touched her, the way he held her so close she could feel his excitement through the dress; it was clear, he was saying something about desire.<br/>
If he were to take her now she would give him a fight. She was indeed preparing for such a fight, waiting to reject any further advances he would make. Instead of touching her further, The Prince pulls away, taking a step back to observe her.<br/>
The two stand there in a tense stare-off. Not knowing what else to do, Seraphine moves to the vanity. Eager to take off the heavy jewelry around her neck and ears.<br/>
Like a shadow, Oleg is behind her once more, one hand on the back of her neck gripping gently as he stares at her through the mirror. She stiffens to his touch as he starts to massage her neck.<br/>
He licks his lips and leans over the chair to be closer to her, “Perhaps I should have you now, I could - “his hand moves from her neck, down her chest, and over her breast. A soft moan leaves his lips as he squeezes, “I could tear off this dress and pin you to the bed this very moment.”<br/>
His voice is lower than before and his eyes heavy with desire. He squeezes her breast again over the dress, this time he’s rougher, his eyes seem to go darker.<br/>
“The desire to have you beg for me outweighs my right to have you this very instant. Pet, I want to feel your desire burning for my touch, I want you in such deep need of me that my touch will send you into a thousand waves of pleasure.”<br/>
As Oleg speaks, she feels a heat rise in her, one she wants to contain but is losing the battle. Keeping one hand on her breasts, Oleg moves the other down her stomach and roughly shoves his hand between her thighs over the fabric.<br/>
“How I long to feel you, to have you wrapped around me, to be inside of you,” Over the fabric his fingers find her core, as they press against her a small gasp leaves her lips, much to his pleasure.<br/>
Oleg moves his hand almost as quickly as he places it there, bringing it up to her mouth. While holding the back of her head firmly, he traces the shape of her lips before pushing the two fingers in her mouth,<br/>
“Sleep well. We have a busy day tomorrow.” He retracts his fingers.<br/>
Oleg captures her eyes once more through the reflection, letting her see him suck on the same fingers that were just in her mouth. He hums blissfully before turning on his heels and leaving the room.<br/>
Once he leaves, the breath stuck in Seraphine's throat finally escapes in a loud exhale. She presses her hands into the dresser. Even if she could shift this situation in her favor, it seemed the Prince enjoyed her resistance; maybe moving chess pieces to gain power would backfire fire after all?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Burning Desires and Forgein tongues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We have a small time jump, at this point Seraphine has been there for two weeks and Oleg is sexually frustrated to say the least.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Overall this fic is:  Adult 18 +  only, NSFW, Mature content, Sexual Content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks later <br/>Seraphine relaxes into the bath, the warm water kissing her muscles and calming her cold bones. She wonders, how long will it take to adjust to the cold of this place?<br/>Weather aside, it had been a calm day. Mostly spent with lessons with Liam. Oleg was aggressive with his schedule, wanting her to learn quickly. Being a fast learner since childhood, Seraphine was confident she could learn a foreign tongue, even if she mispronounced the words. <br/>As her thoughts slow down, the door creaks open. Seraphine looks back and finds Oleg in the doorway. He closes the door behind him before circling the bath slowly, determination in his eyes. <br/>“You are a cold woman, Seraphine. Do you not care for me?” <br/>When she doesn't answer, Oleg drags a stool across the floor and stations it behind her. He sits, gathering her hair into his hands, <br/>“Do I not take good care of you woman?”<br/>Seraphine continues to wash her legs, listening to him and only picking up four words, I, woman, you, and me. It was difficult catching the words. Liam was right; this was a hard language to learn. <br/>In his frustrated state, Oleg tugs her hair hard enough to get her attention. Seraphine turns in the tub to glare at him, her fingers latched to the side of the bath. <br/>“You glare at me with such hate!” He inches closer, her hair still in a fist, “I know you want me as I want you. I’ve dreamed of it!” <br/>She tries to figure out what Oleg is saying with the few words she knows. Did the Prophet suggest some kind of dream of her, of them? Had he seen her in his visions as she saw him? <br/>Before she can reflect further, Oleg continues to invade her space. Hovering over her, he buries his nose in the curve of her neck to inhale her scent.<br/>“NO! Get away!” Seraphine shouts in his language before biting down on his hand.<br/>Oleg jumps back, nearly falling off the stool. Seraphine reaches out, swatting him away and slapping his arms before settling back in the bath. Water splashes on the floor. <br/>Oleg observes his hand. Seraphine bit him so hard she nearly broke the skin. His hot rage turns into a crazed laugh as he holds his hand up in the air,<br/> “You are wild my pet! How joyous it is to hear my language on your tongue!” Oleg continues to chuckle as she rolls her eyes, focusing on rubbing the bath suds on her legs. <br/>Seraphine wished he would leave, not because she didn't want him there, but because she was in denial. After two weeks, she did want him, but she didn't want him to know it. <br/>But he doesn't leave. Oleg takes a long stride to the side of the bath and grabs her face, forcing her to look at him, <br/>“When I speak to you, you look at me. Always, look at me!” <br/>Seraphine feels a smile linger on her lips, she curses him in her language. Challenging him. Olegs eyes light up with perverse pleasure. <br/>Between gritted teeth, Oleg mumbles something under this breath. Seemingly about to fly into a rage until his eyes fall down to her breast, the sight of her erect nipples shifting his anger to heigthened arousal. <br/>Olegs voice drops low, “Why don’t you make me happy as I do you? Why don’t you give me what I need?” <br/>Oleg grabs her neck again before coming to his knees. He lowers his head as his mouth lingers over her breast. Darting his eyes up to meet hers, he sticks out his tongue and flicks her nipple. Seraphine shutters under this tongue. <br/>Eyes locked on her, Oleg bites down before sucking her nipple into his mouth. Her body betraying her, Seraphine moans to his touch, feeling his moans between her legs. Oleg's gets greedy, palming the other breasts as he sucks on her skin. </p><p>Serephine could stop him. Force him out of the bathroom, even hit him again if needed. But her mind was losing the battle. Once his mouth was on her all she could think about was the possibilities. This red hot rage and desire she felt for this man, how would that manifest once she lay in his bed? <br/>“My pet, “Oleg sings, his hand disappearing in the bathwater and settling between her legs, “how I've longed for this moment. Ah, there, there, good girl,” his fingers slid inside of her as she curves her back to take him deeper, her head falls back. <br/>Oleg continues pumping his fingers into her as his other hand disappears out of view. She can hear him pulling at his tunic,followed by the sound of his belt falling to the ground. <br/>When his mouth claims hers, an explosion sets off between them. The kiss consumes them; it's dizzying, animal. <br/>Oleg lifts Seraphine from the bath, locking his lips to hers again as he carries her to the bedroom.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Time jump in next chapter to the day they meet Ivar</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Viking pt 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We skip ahead six months later, Seraphine and Oleg have settled into their life together. This chapter was getting long, so broke it up into two parts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sleep was elusive lately as Seraphine's dreams were so vivid they felt real. Seraphine had that unsettled feeling in her gut. Something was coming.<br/>

As she becomes lost in her thoughts, her eyes travel over to The Prince. The cruel man, her captor, her lover, who sat steps away from her. In a gentle moment, lovingly petting Maxim, one of his two dogs. Oleg seemed larger than life; his gold and black tunic in contrast to the throne, and the black dog in his lap, he was near impossible to ignore.<br/>

Then there was Seraphine. Propped up on a bed of pillows beside the throne like a deity. Even if there was nothing for her to do, The Prince just wanted her there.<br/>

She shifts her gaze to Michail, the second dog, as he runs over to her happily. She sits up and wraps her arms around him. Michail is warm beneath her touch. Her mind wanders back to the dream.<br/>

A carriage with one man inside<br/>

His hair long, beard wild<br/>

A deep curiosity in his eyes, mixed with pain and self-reflection<br/>

His face covered in dirt<br/>

Brilliant blue eyes under dark brows watching unfamiliar faces in wonder<br/>

A snake dancing across his right arm<br/>

The sound of the soldiers footsteps against the ground shake the image from her mind. Oleg’s guards enter the room, dragging in a man who's clearly been beaten.<br/>

Oleg smiles, that wild smile that signaled he was about to do something violent. Whatever this man had done, his fate was likely grim. This wasn't the man from her visions. But, if her gut was right, this was only the first of more events to come.<br/>

Oleg stands as Maxim comes to her side. When she starts to leave, he stops her with a raise of his hand. “Where do you think you are going?” Though his words are for her, he’s not looking at her. Instead his focus is on his beloved Ax as he takes it into his hands.<br/>

Seraphine settles back into her previous spot without a word. The dogs at her side.<br/>

Within seconds, without explanation, Oleg kills the man, striking him with a death blow to the chest. The guards drag the body out as Oleg uses the small mirror by the throne to check for blood on his face.<br/>

Oleg was many things. He was a complex puzzle with parts so dark she feared she would never come clean of them. Despite this, watching him so elegantly dressed with a bloody axe in his hands didn’t scare her. She made amends with her animalistic attraction to him months ago. And in his savage moments, at times, he was more attractive than ever.<br/>

Seraphine tears her eyes away from the Prince and stares at the pool of blood on the tile. Seconds later, Vladyslav enters the room.<br/>

Oleg, still looking in the mirror, addresses him. “What is it?”<br/>

“My Prince,” he continues speaking to Olegs back, “we made an interesting arrest.” He signals for the prisoner to be bought in, “A King - or so he claims - traveling along the silk road.”<br/>

Seraphine sits up straight, as the strange man is dragged in by two guards. He's the same man from her visions, minus the beard. She notices the way his feet drag on the ground.<br/>

Oleg, showing interest, looks over his shoulder and lowers the mirror, “A King?”<br/>

The guards drop the man to the ground, right into the large blood spot. The strange man hits the floor with a grunt.<br/>

Vladyslav and Oleg continue to speak in short sentences as the prisoner King grits his teeth, glaring at the spot on the floor. His clothes are old, tattered. As the two speak, the man sits up and taps his bound legs with his hand.<br/>

Seraphine can see he had Olegs full attention. There was a way he looked at people who interested him, there was almost this perverse mad scientist about him. Whatever was brewing in his head, she knew he wouldn't kill the Viking King. He was too interested in him.<br/>

The Vikings vivid blue eyes land on hers. Seraphine perks up, examining the strange man. An intense desire to know this man, to study him fills her entire being. He breaks the gaze first, returning his focus to Oleg and pulls the wrap off over his head.<br/>

Bemused, Oleg holds up the axe, which he has yet to put down and points it at the Viking. He turns his head to look at Seraphine,<br/>

“Who is he?” She asks in Russian.<br/>

Oleg smirks, everytime he hears his language on her tongue, the desire to take her then and there overcomes him. He controls himself and concentrates. Oleg smirks at her, “His name is Ivar the Boneless.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Viking pt 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whatever happened the rest of the day, Seraphine did not know. By time dinner was to be had, the energy between Prince Oleg and the Viking, Ivar, had shifted; in a way, they seemed more familiar. </p><p>For the next three days, Oleg keeps Ivar to himself, limiting her contact with him. In their short interactions, Oleg would translate what he saw fit. Keeping a distance between her and Ivar. Leaving them only with chaperoned conversations and lingering glances. </p><p>At night, her mind would wander. She was curious about this Ivar the Boneless. Where did he come from? Who was he? How did he end up here? Seraphine had so many questions and no answers. </p><p>Sometimes, when her curiosity got the best of her, she’d ask Oleg questions about Ivar. This seemed to amuse him, though he would only offer up so much information in return. Then promptly turned her attention back to him. </p><p>On the 4th day, Seraphine’s curiosity got the best of her. While Oleg was out, she made her way to Ivar's room. She wanted to see him up close, without Oleg. But, with the two large guards at his door, she couldn't get past without Oleg knowing about it. </p><p>...</p><p>Oleg returned hours later, finding Seraphine in the music room where she played a string instrument. It was a replica of one from home. </p><p>Aside from passion, music was another thing that bonded them. Often, her tenderest moments with Oleg were shared in this very room. <br/>Under the spell of music, the devious Prince would morph into something softer. His love of music soothed him down to the bones. </p><p>Prince Oleg was an emotional man under all the rage. Sometimes, if a piece of music or performance was beautiful enough, his eyes would water. Tears would fall down his cheeks before he could wipe them away.</p><p>There was no doubt, a turbulent storm brewed inside of Oleg, a storm that if fully released, would drown everyone around him. Seraphine thinks of all this as her fingers strum the strings, his eyes burning into her from the doorway. </p><p>Oleg stands and enters the room, taking a seat behind her as she continues to play. She can feel his breath in her hair as he lingers close, his fingertips brushing against her arms. </p><p>Oleg closes his eyes and listens to the music. It was these moments that worried Seraphine the most, not the sex. These pure moments of bonding. </p><p>Oleg gently lifts her hair and plants a kiss on the side of her neck. </p><p>“Dear Seraphine,” his lips brush her skin, sending shutter down her spine, she misses a note, “you play the most beautiful songs…” he bites her neck, sucking the skin into his mouth, “my songbird…” </p><p>Oleg's hands slide around her body, under the instrument, and over her breasts. With the other, he grabs the neck of the instrument, lifting it from her hands. </p><p>In a breathy whisper, he demands, “Kiss me.” </p><p>Seraphine turns her head to him, she presses her lips to his. Oleg, hungry for her, sucks her bottom lip into his mouth with a moan. He wanted her now, on this very floor. But he had to control himself, no matter how hot his body burned for her. There was something he had to do. </p><p>Oleg slides his hand to her neck as the heated kiss slows down. He pulls away, his eyes dark with desire as he looks at her. </p><p>“Dress warmly. We are taking a trip.” </p><p>“Where?” Seraphine asks, her lips feeling wet and swollen from his possessive kiss. </p><p>Oleg only grins. He comes to standing and adjusts his erection in his pants before leaving the room. Feeling hazy, Seraphine stands and puts the instrument away before heading to her room. </p><p>…</p><p>Later that day </p><p>As the music plays and Oleg dances in the middle of the room, Seraphine's eyes land on Ivar who watches closely; his brilliant blue eyes wide with wonder. Maybe there was something in Ivar that called to Oleg, just like Oleg felt pulled to him. </p><p>The blood, the murder of his own brother, his joyous dance in the middle of it all - this was Prince Oleg. Though shocking at the moment, it didn’t surprise her. Prince Oleg had a reason for coming, it was for something he wanted. And when it came to things he wanted, Oleg always got them. </p><p>Over the last six months, Seraphine grew used to his cruelness. Oleg never hid it from her, if anything he liked her to see it. It almost pleased him that she didn't show any fear. Seraphine knew exactly who Oleg was, and now, Ivar was going to find out as well. </p><p>As the night comes, they stay at his brother's palace. Oleg leaves her and Ivar in a room with Igor as he attends to something he doesn’t disclose the details of. Igor falls asleep, leaving the two of them awake in the room. </p><p>Ivar lay’s down on the couch, attempting to sleep with no luck. Turning his head to the side, he gazes at Seraphine across the room. She's making some kind of pendant with stone and string. </p><p>Seraphines looks up, catching his gaze. Ivar looks away quickly, closing his eyes. Seraphine bites her lower lip and pulls her attention back to the pendant. A moment later, Ivar shifts, his blue eyes land on her again. </p><p>Ivar notices her slightly parted lips and the way her chest raises as she takes a sharp breath in. He watches her long lashes blink twice before she turns to face him. </p><p>When their eyes lock, Ivar can’t look away, despite telling himself to. He feels his breath quicken just a little and the rise and fall of his chest. </p><p>Seraphine sits upright, placing the book on her lap. Ivar's eyes fall to her lips. She wants to be closer to him, to touch him, to look into his eyes. The pull to be closer to him consumes her body. </p><p>As she contemplates moving closer, heavy footsteps approach the room. The door swings open as Oleg charges in. Ivar and Seraphine break eye contact before he can notice.</p><p>“Both of you, up! We need to leave.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Language of Music Pt A</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 6 is divided into part A and B but, on here will count as 6 &amp; 7. So if you read on other platforms, that may be confusing but I just wanted to point it out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Week Later <br/>Ivar had taken a liking to the kid immediately, Séraphine could see their bond grow as the days passed by. It was clear Igor found comfort in Ivar and Ivar in Igor. <br/>Her own relationship with Igor was to be determined. Séraphine wasn’t always great with kids, frankly, she didn’t really know how to entertain them. But, she did try her best to be kind to Igor. He was a sweet, scared kid. Igor was captured, taken, and stuck; Séraphine could understand that.<br/>She thinks about the Raven and how it’s visited her three days in a row. What knowledge did it have for her? What was springing into life and what was nearing its death? <br/>Blinking away her thoughts, she shifts her focus to the music; watching the way Igor's small fingers strum the strings. The pear-shaped instrument gives off a delicate and rich sound. Music for Igor was soothing, an escape, just like it was for Séraphine. <br/>Séraphine closes her eyes, smiling softly as the music washes over her. Much to her dismay, the peaceful moment is short-lived. Seconds later, Oleg stalks into the room. <br/>Stopping in the doorway, Oleg studies the scene before him. There was something judgemental in his stance. When Olegs eyes fall on Séraphine she sits up, paying close attention to his eyes. Even when his face was still, his eyes held the truth. <br/>After a moment, Oleg looks away and points at Igor, “Put that down. Come.”<br/>Séraphine notices the way Ivar stiffens, concern washes over his face. Neither of them liked the way Oleg bossed Igor around, Ivar was just more expressive about it. <br/>Growing impatient, Oleg repeats the order once more. Igor quickly came to his feet, placing the Lute on the pillow before making his way to Olegs' side.  <br/>Giving the room one more visual sweep, Oleg flashes an unsettling grin at Ivar and Séraphine and leaves the room with Igor. <br/>Séraphine stares at the entryway long after Olegs' footsteps disappear. Though she can feel Ivars eyes on her, she can’t look away. Oleg was up to something, she knew it, she could feel it in her bones. <br/>Lowering her eyes, she stares at her dress and runs her palms over the fabric. Her eyebrows draw together as her thoughts speed up in her head. <br/>Ivar notices her concern, but his inability to communicate with her leaves him stumped. His eyes travel the room for a moment before settling on the Harp-Lute to his left. The beautiful black and gold instrument rests against a stand, it was almost too elegant to touch. <br/>Stretching back, Ivar carefully retrieves it, keeping his grip on it tight as he settles back into his previous spot on the pillows. Ivar couldn’t ask her what was wrong, but he knew she loved music and lit up every time she played. Maybe this would give her some comfort. <br/>Handing her the instrument, he offers a gentle smile and nods. Séraphine smiles with her eyes, taking the Harp-lute into her hands. Ivar watches as her fine fingers decorated in gold bands move across the body and the strings, admiring the design. He was excited to hear her play, there was something hauntingly ethereal in her technique.  <br/>Séraphine gets in position, taking her time and strumming the strings once. This instrument meant more to her than anyone could know. It was her one piece of home aside from the items on her person when Oleg took her. <br/>The act of making this was painstaking but she needed it to be authentic, as close to the ones back home as possible. Though Oleg purchased one for her, she preferred this. Despite the beauty on the outside, there were inconsistencies in the design but it still sounded delightful even with its imperfections. <br/>Quickly looking up, she catches Ivars eyes as he waits patiently. She offers a small smile and refocuses on the instrument. This sculpted piece of wood was her security blanket, one she found comfort in. Comfort that soon included Oleg as he grew attached. Even when performing for him, she never lost her love for this. And now, the thought of sharing this with Ivar gave her a sense of joy and excitement. <br/>As Séraphine plays, Ivar watches her closely. The music washes over him, he finds himself inching closer and closer as he listens. He feels his emotions stir inside of him, begging for release on the surface. The flood of emotion is both uncomfortable and welcomed. <br/>As the last notes of the song play, Ivar starts to clap. He soon slows down as worry fills her deep brown eyes. She sets the instrument to her left on a pillow and takes a sharp breath in. <br/>“Séraphine?” <br/>Leaning forward, Séraphine rests a hand on Ivars shoulder and whispers in his ear. <br/>“Be careful. Keep your guard up.” She warns. <br/>Ivar’s eyes widen as she faces him, the distance between them close enough their noses almost touch. Ivar mirrors her hushed tone, “you know my language?” <br/>Seraphine nods shyly, searching his brilliant blue eyes. “Can you keep a secret, Ivar?” Her voice is soft as a feather. <br/>Going still, Ivar’s mouth falls open. Séraphine calls his name, he doesn’t respond. Blinking slowly, he starts to speak but stops as oncoming footsteps echo in the hallway. <br/>Séraphine sits back, creating distance between their bodies. Ivar looks down at his shoulder where her hand remains, he can feel the slight shaking in her hand. <br/>Pulling it away, she resumes playing the instrument, purposely playing one of Oleg's favorite songs. <br/>Before Ivar can make sense of his thoughts and what she just revealed, Oleg strolls in, biting into an apple and savoring the taste. Igor only steps behind him.<br/>Séraphine feels her heart racing in her chest. Was that too risky? Did she just expose herself foolishly? Trying her best to swallow back her worry, she continues to play and tries to calm her breathing. <br/>Oleg sits beside her, resting a hand on her lower back. It sends a chill up her spine, she nearly misses a note. Her anxiety almost gets the best of her. When she locks eyes with Ivar, a sense of calm washes over her. His eyes are soft, inviting, understanding. <br/>Though the eye contact was short-lived, his eyes told her all she needed to know; she could trust him.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Language of Music pt 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We continue where we left off, just a few hours later after dinner. At this point Igor is already in bed and the three of them (Ivar, Oleg, and Séraphine) are up drinking. We get more Ivar x Séraphine plus the start of Jealous Oleg.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you have been reading on Tumblr, this is technically chapter 6 part B, since I made it two parts. But on here, its now chapter 7. Sorry for the confusion. </p><p>Storyline vs the show: Since I don’t want to overfill the chapters with extra details, I’m adding this note now. This fic is closely tied with season 6 events overall. At this point (in 6B) Oleg has also attacked Dir’s people and taken him prisoner. We have not reached season 6B territory yet, once we do I will tag spoilers.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>More wine flowed than usual, perhaps it was Olegs way of celebrating his latest victories. In a short time he had Igor, killed Askold and captured Dir. As far as Oleg was concerned, he was on top of the world.</p><p>As the red liquid flows, Oleg tells stories switching back and forth between languages and translating for Seraphine whenever he sees fit. When she asked to leave earlier, Oleg rejected her request. Séraphine felt like a decoration, she often felt that way when there was no need for her to be in the room. </p><p>Oleg, massaging the nape of Séraphine's neck, grins wildly as he stares off in the distance. She takes the moment to steal a glance of Ivar who is already looking at her. Ivar brings his drink to his lips, breaking eye contact when Oleg lowers his gaze. </p><p>Oleg regards Séraphine lustfully, a smirk lingering on his lips. “Séraphine is very curious about you Ivar,” he grasps her chin and tilts it upward. His dark eyes linger on her lips, “I think she would like to hear about the great Vikings!” </p><p>Ivar thinks about his response, he had to choose his words carefully. He was aware his desire for Séraphine would likely cause a problem between the two of them. Not that it was paradise being in Oleg’s company anyway, the honeymoon stage was quickly dwindling. </p><p>When it came to Séraphine, Ivar proceeded with caution. Trying his best to divert his eyes and keep his distance. But in times like this, it was near impossible to look away. Not when Oleg was always stroking her infront of him, kissing her, sometimes even biting her. Ivar didn’t know if Oleg was marking his territory, an exibitonist, or both.  </p><p>Oleg turns his body toward Séraphine, a low chuckle rises in his throat as he slowly moves his hand across her stomach. Oleg looks over his shoulder, eyes settling on Ivar,  “Will you indulge her?” </p><p>Ivars lip twitches as he keeps his eyes on Olegs. Ivar takes a breath and forces a smile, “What would she like to know?”</p><p>Bemused, Oleg pulls her into his chest, resting his other arm around her shoulders. “Tell us everything, Ivar the Boneless. We have all night.” </p><p>Ivar notices the way  Séraphine’s hand briefly clenches, then unclenches. A second later, she releases the wine glass and hides her hand under the table. Her previously relaxed posture is now rigid. </p><p>Ivar realizes he’s never seen her this upset or uncomfortable since his arrival, and the fact that Oleg only continues to pet her like a prized animal, stirs a fire in Ivars gut. Setting the cup down, Ivar crosses his arms and raises his chin. </p><p>“Perhaps we can save that for another day, she seems tired.” </p><p>Oleg’s smile fades to a tight lipped frown. The room falls eerily silent. He continues to watch Ivar, waiting for a reaction.  </p><p>Séraphine bites the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to say something. She couldn’t speak now, she would give herself away. </p><p>After a moment, Oleg sits up tall. “She doesn’t look tired to me,” he tilts his head, “I would know.” </p><p>Ivar chuckles and shakes his head slightly. Grabbing the cup, he takes a drink of the wine. </p><p> Séraphine eye’s the exit, the tension at the table almost causing the wine to rise back up in her throat. She settles on an action and  rests her hand on top of Olegs on his thigh. </p><p>“What are you talking about? What happened?” She asks innocently. </p><p>Oleg’s tense stare instantly softens.  Removing his arm from her shoulders, he slaps his palms together and beckons the server over. “More wine! We have many stories to hear tonight.”</p><p>…</p><p>The Next day </p><p>Séraphine could admit, sometimes the snow was beautiful. Othertimes it was cold, depressing, oppressive. She never saw snow until she arrived in this place and she missed the heat of the sun. </p><p>Looking around, she’s relieved to still be alone. This little nook was the most private one in the palace. All her endless wanderings, once she was guardless, led her here. Now, it was her sacred spot to sit and think in the open air when weather allowed for it. </p><p>Reaching in her outer pockets, she pulls out a pouch. Unwrapping it, she reveals a set of gold and white cards. Though she could dechiper her dreams, there were still things she didn’t understand. Maybe the cards could help. </p><p>Halfway through shuffling, the door opens slowly. With a pinched expression, Séraphine sets the cards on her lap, waiting for his face to appear. She’s half surprised he doesn’t slap the door open or kick it. </p><p>But when her visitor is revealed, she only smiles softly. The intruder isn’t Price Oleg, or one of his guards. Letting her shoulders relax, Séraphine waits patiently as Ivar makes his way over to her. </p><p>Settling into a spot, Ivar’s lips curve into a smile. “It seems I’ve uncovered your hiding spot.” </p><p>“One, of my hiding spots.” Séraphine clarifies with a gin. </p><p>Ivar motions to the cards with his chin. “What are those?” </p><p>She shuffles them again, eyes focused on Ivar, “Playing cards, they can be used to tell fortunes.” </p><p>“Is that so?” The curiosity in Ivars voice is enough to warm her chilled bones. </p><p>Dropping her head, she shuffles the cards one last time. Séraphine pulls a card and turns it over. “7 of diamonds. Change will come for one in a high place. Perhaps a revolution.” </p><p>Ivar takes the card into his own hands and studies it closely. “Tell me, how do you know my language?” </p><p>Séraphine leans into Ivars space just a little. “Well, it’s a long story but I can give you the short version, I can only be gone for so long before he looks for me…” she puts the cards down and matches Ivars body language. </p><p>“You are the second Vikings I’ve ever met. The first was a friend of my fathers. I found myself so - hypnotized by him. I asked so many questions,” she smiles, seeing his face in her mind's eye. “I asked him to teach me, he did.” </p><p>Ivar had so many questions. Where was she from? Who was this Viking? How did her father know one? How long was the Viking there? But if anyone knows Olegs habits, it would be the woman who shares her bed; so Ivar decides to save his questions for later. </p><p>Ivar watches the way her full lips curve into a smile as she lowers her head slightly. She looks down then up again from under her lashes. Ivars lips part as he observes her. The space falls quiet. </p><p>Ivar speaks first, “Who are you, Séraphine?” </p><p>Séraphine bites her lower lip and takes him in one more time. A deep warmth flushes over Ivar as his pulse quickens. </p><p>She breaks eye contact and pulls the card from his hand, brushing her fingers against his own while she does. Ivar remains silent as Séraphine wraps the cards and slides them back into her coat pocket. </p><p>“Ivar,” hearing his name on her lips feels like an embrace, “sometimes I think I know the answer to that question. Other times, I know I’m still figuring it out.” </p><p>Séraphine stands before him, placing her hand against his cheek. Ivar stares up at her and in her hands, for the first time in a long time, he feels safe, warm. </p><p>“He’ll be shouting for me shortly, but,” she runs her thumb across his cheek bone. Ivar leans into it and an almost silent moan leaves his lips. “This place has many secrets, many nooks. Maybe we’ll meet in another when the Prince is occupied.” </p><p>“I hope we do.” </p><p>Séraphine places her hand on his head and gently glides it down over his ponytail. “We will.” </p><p>Ivar watches as she turns around and heads to the door. She looks over her shoulder once, leaving him with a smile before she disappears inside.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Foretold events and the fires of longing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings/ Themes: Overall steamy theme with some fluff mixed in. No actual sex described. </p><p>This Chapter: This chapter covers a 4 day time span.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“My pet,” Olegs' voice is heavy with lust. </p><p>Pausing mid-sentence, he focuses on smoothing the 2-inch flake of gold against Séraphine's upper thigh. Oleg lifts his fingers, an approving hum behind his lips, “my work of art. Face me.” </p><p>Séraphine takes two small steps toward Oleg. His lips meet her lower stomach in a tender peck. His beard is scratchy against her skin but the softness of his lips more than makeup for it.</p><p>It was impossible to imagine 7 months ago Séraphinewould willingly stand here like this; naked and relaxed in front of the Prince. The truth was, she liked his touch, sometimes even craved it. As his long fingers and warm palm press and brush her skin, her arousal builds. </p><p>Sometimes, she felt spelled by him, as he did her. What was the meaning of this? This fate? Why this man or all men? Why a man she hated yet craved at the same time? </p><p>Oleg doesn’t rush. At his leisure, he reaches into the decorative bowl and picks out a larger slice of gold flake. He observes it before making his decision. </p><p>“This belongs on you, like it’s always been there.” Oleg smooths it against the curve of her lower stomach, softly biting his lip as his palm moves left to right. “You are to stay like this all day.” </p><p>Séraphine grins, her voice barely above a whisper when she speaks, “and if I don’t?” </p><p>Oleg chuckles, placing his hands on his knees as he looks up at her, “are you challenging me?” </p><p>Séraphine leans over, stopping only when their noses touch. “Maybe I am. Maybe, after you finish all this hard work I’ll just take it off.” </p><p>“Séraphine,” Oleg shakes his head and makes a tisk sound, “that leads to severe punishment.” </p><p>She shrugs, standing up tall again. Séraphine had no intention of taking this off yet, to be covered in gold? She felt like a goddess. But it felt equally good to defy him anyway. </p><p>“Your punishments aren't severe.” </p><p>Oleg growls, his dark eyes and stares up at her. When she doesn’t meet his gaze, he grabs her by the hips, pulling her into her lap. </p><p>“I told you, you must look at me!” A serious tone replaces the cheerfulness in his voice. </p><p>Seraphine takes her time, slowly meeting his gaze eventually. </p><p>Oleg smiles instantly once her eyes land on his, “My minx, how you misbehave,” he kisses her neck and jawline. “I’ve been gentle with you, I shall be no longer.” </p><p>The words shouldn’t turn her on as much as they do, still, it ignites something primal in her and if he decided to stop this project and have her now, she wouldn’t object. Yet, in the back of her mind, the words also strike fear. What exactly did Oleg mean by that? </p><p>...</p><p>The Next Day </p><p>Seraphine crooks her brow and the guard steps aside, pushing the heavy wooden door open. She holds the book and a small wrapped object tighter to her chest and enters the room.<br/>
Once the guard closes the door, she looks around, “Prince Dir, I’ve come with gifts!” </p><p>“Is that so?” She hears him before she sees him. A second later, he peeks his head out from the top of his tree house. </p><p>“Yessss, “ Seraphine sings and offers a bow, “may I be granted entry?” </p><p>Igor presses his finger to his chin, looking up like he's thinking.  A moment later he smiles wide and nods excitingly, “yes, you may enter.” </p><p>“Thank you.” Seraphine walks up to the tree house and starts to place the book on the ground. </p><p>“Come up.” Igor pleads. </p><p>“Oh, though your tree house looks strong, I don’t know if it can handle a full size adult.” </p><p>Igor taps the walls, “It’s very strong. It can handle it.” </p><p>“If you say so Prince, but, if I fall to my death you have to make sure Oleg doesn’t put me in that creepy crypt.” They share a laugh and she gathers her dress as she climbs up the ladder.<br/>
Once she reaches the top. Seraphine settles into place. Igor watches her with large bright eyes. </p><p>“So, I came across this book and I think you will like it. It’s about a lost Prince who finds his home. I must confess, I can’t understand all of it...but, you will and you can tell me all about it.” </p><p>Igor nods and opens his palms as she offers him the book. “Thank you Seraphine.” </p><p>“My lessons with Liam are going well but, there is still alot I don’t know.” </p><p>“In time, you will.” Oleg flips through the book. Sometimes, though he was a child, Seraphine sensed an old soul in Igor. </p><p>Seraphine focuses on the wrapped object, “I have something else. I made this for you.” She hands it to him. </p><p>Igor opens it quickly, pulling the paper away and grinning at the reveal. He holds it up to the light, “is this me?” </p><p>Seraphine nods, “yes. So even when you get older, you will always have a piece of your youth. It’s important we hold on to that. It helps us stay young.” </p><p>Igor places the book down, then the figurine. Freeing his arms, he moves in for a hug, Séraphine gladly accepts.  </p><p>…</p><p>Two nights later </p><p>Seraphine can’t sleep. She stares up at the ceiling with a sigh and carefully leaves the bed. Feeling grateful she decided to sleep in her own room tonight, Séraphine knew she could deal with her restlessness in private. </p><p>After lighting a candle, she moves over to the nearest desk and unwraps her cards. Maybe they had some wisdom for her, some guidance about the aggressiveness of her current dreams and unsettled state. </p><p>Seraphine spreads the cards against the surface in a fan shape. Her eyes travel over the cards, looking for the ones that call to her. Settling on one in the far left, she pulls it out and turns it over. Eight of clubs. </p><p>“Oleg,” she whispers to herself. “ the affections of a dark man which brings great fortune and unhappiness. Feeling trapped.” She pulls another and sets it across, “Six of spades, change in direction...toward,” she pulls another, “Ace of clubs, new aspirations.” </p><p>She stares at the spread. </p><p>With no one to talk to all these long months, dealing with her feelings took the back burner. She had to adjust, so she did. There was Liam, but, the intimacy of her thoughts wasn’t something she felt completely comfortable sharing. And the thought of a journal crossed her mind a few times, but the likelihood of Oleg finding it was too great. </p><p>Ivar’s arrival invoked something in her. Everything she shoved down deep was pressing upward, boiling to the surface. Was Ivar her Ace of Clubs? Before she made her move, she had to be sure, she needed to be sure. </p><p>Seraphine pulls another card, Two of Hearts. </p><p>Gathering the cards in a pile, she slips a warm coat over her night dress. Looking around the room once more, she stares at the two small jars on her vanity.  Gathering them, she leaves the bedroom. </p><p>Closing the door quietly behind her, she proceeds down the hall with feather light steps, taking the long way to her destination to purposefully avoid any lingering guards. </p><p> </p><p>Minutes later </p><p> </p><p>Angelic. </p><p>It was the only word she could use to describe him. Ivar never looked as peaceful as now, comfortably resting on a firm bed with soft pillows and layers of sheets. Séraphine could tell he was shirtless and it was impossible to not let her mind wander. </p><p>Seraphine takes a small step closer and his eyes move under his lids. She holds her breath. When they do open, the brilliant blue orbs make her pulse quicken. It’s almost as if the moon herself favors Ivar as well, her silver rays cast across his beautiful face and chest from the window. </p><p>There no trace of fear or worry on his face, instead, Ivar smiles. </p><p>“I smelled you.” His voice is groggy with sleep. Ivar sits up, pressing his back against the headboard.</p><p>Seraphine doesn't reply yet, she’s distracted. Her eyes watch the way his silky brown stands fall against his broad shoulders. Lowering her gaze, she follows the beautiful lines of his chest tattoos, further revealed as the sheets fall back. </p><p>Ivar was gorgeous. Seeing him this way shook something deep inside of her loose, awakened it.  This was a different passion, not the kind she shared with Oleg. This was something so powerful it almost scared her. </p><p>Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Séraphine slowly extends her free hand. He notices she holds two small containers in the other. Ivar watches slowly, anticipating her touch. Those long beautiful fingers would soon touch his skin. </p><p>The pads of her fingers are soft and warm against his chest. Her nails, though long, don’t scratch him as she traces his tattoo. On a hitched breath, Ivar gently grabs her wrists, regrettably stopping her.  Their eyes meet. </p><p>Ivar whispers, “Oleg-"</p><p>Séraphine anticapates his question, “He’s asleep, like a rock. Trust me.” </p><p>Ivars releases her wrist. Séraphine interlaces her fingers in his, Ivar smiles at the contact. </p><p>“How can you be sure?” The concern is still clear in his eyes. </p><p>“The Prince, some nights, drinks himself to sleep in the crypt talking to his dead wife.” She says nonchalantly, “he tells her about his problems, blames her...he gets so drunk he falls asleep or needs help getting to bed. He won’t be awake for hours.” </p><p>Her tone is soft despite the dismissive way she talks about Oleg. Ivar leans in closer, letting the sound of her voice wash over him. Ivar squeezes her hand a little tighter. </p><p>“I made something for you. Igor told me how your legs pain you,” she places the lighter colored jar on his lap and sits at the edge of the bed. “It’s a salve, I learned it from my mother, she learned from hers...I had to make do with the herbs here, it's not quite like the one from home but, it may help.” </p><p>Ivar feels a warmth spread in his chest, “thank you, Séraphine.” </p><p>Continuing to hold hands, they fall into a comfortable silence. Ivar rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, he can’t recall the last time he felt such a softness beneath his rough hands.<br/>
Ivar takes a breath and sorts his thoughts, “why me?” </p><p>Seraphine smirks, tilting her head to the side. “Your soul. Your spirit. I could see you, Ivar. Truly see you the moment you arrived.” She brings his hand to her lips, kissing his fingers, “The handsome package is a bonus.” </p><p>Ivar lowers his head, chuckling softly. Keeping it low, his eyes jump back to hers and she nearly stops breathing. That look. The one that stops her dead in her tracks no matter what she was doing. </p><p>“Handsome? Even with these?” Holding her gaze, Ivar taps his legs with his free hand.</p><p>All the things she could say dance through her mind. But as Séraphine falls deeper and deeper into his eyes, words don’t seem like enough. </p><p>Resting a hand on the side of his neck, Séraphine leans forward until her lips meet his.  Ivars hungry lips quickly claim hers. His brief moment of hesitancy disappears as he grips the back of her head, pulling her deeper into the kiss.</p><p>Seraphine kisses him with a passion that takes his breath away. All thoughts in either of their heads melt away. When Seraphines hand presses against his chest, the warm sensation travels downward. Heating up his skin and stirring the deepest parts of him.  </p><p>As her tongue moves over his, a raw and urgent desire to have her consumes him. Overwhelmed with passion, Ivar breaks the kiss, moving away slightly. The hand on the back of her neck now cups her cheek. </p><p>Recovering from the breathless kiss, Seraphine and Ivar stare into each other's eyes. Ivar smiles, his smile feels like the sun, and Seraphine can’t help but touch his face and trace his lips.<br/>
Both feel the most comfortable and alive they’ve been in a long time. Neither speaks, feeling no need to sour the moment with excessive words. After some time, Ivar pulls her into him, needing the warmth of her mouth and the spells on her lips. </p><p>Releasing the container in her hand, she frees herself completely to touch more of Ivar. He draws her into his lap. Séraphine carefully finds a comfortable position before seeking his lips once more. </p><p>With their lungs desperate for air, their lips eventually part. She’s smiling now and Ivar feels his heart flutter. He could stare at her forever.  When she smiled he felt blessed and washed of his sins and secrets. </p><p>Seraphine reaches over to retrieve the small dark container. Ivar regards her adoringly as she twists the top open. </p><p>“What is it?” Ivar asks. </p><p>Not removing the top, she looks up at him, “close your eyes.” </p><p>A lightness washes over him and his skin feels extra sensitive. His lips still tingle and her taste lingers in his mouth. </p><p>“Ivar.” She repeats, closing her own eyes to remind him.</p><p>“As you wish.” Ivar closes his eyes and takes a soft breath in and out. </p><p>He feels her shift on top of him. Seconds later, a sweet aroma hits his nose. The undertone is smoky, woody, earthy with a little bit of fruit. Ivar hums and Seraphine watches the way his Adam's apple moves, his beautiful long neck served as a distraction on more than one occasion. </p><p>Regaining her focus, Seraphine dips her finger in the jar and gently spreads a drop of the thick liquid across his bottom lip. Ivar’s tongue darts out to accept the offering.<br/>
Honey. He says with a smirk on his lips. Seraphine nods, but he can’t see her, his eyes are still closed. </p><p>Her fingers returned to his lips once more before his eyes opened again. The sweet nectar is refreshing and the perfect companion to the taste of her lips. </p><p>The bliss in his expression starts to mix with something else. She can see the wheels turning in his head. Lowering the jar, she frees her hands to caress his face. </p><p>“Ivar, what is on your mind?”</p><p>“There’s something I have to do. Tomorrow night-” Ivar pauses and the cards flash before her eyes. He continues, “I need your help.”  </p><p>Dir. She mouths his name and Ivar confirms with a nod. Séraphine slides her palms over Ivar’s shoulders, he moans softly. </p><p>“We are all prisoners here. Some just have the illusion of freedom,” she moves down the side of his arms, “Tell me how I can help.” </p><p>When Seraphine’s eyes meet his again, the relaxed expression on his face makes her feel calm. </p><p>“Igor and I have a plan, I just need you to keep him busy.” </p><p>“I can do that.” Séraphine dances her fingers over his. Ivar spreads his further apart to make room for hers. </p><p>Inhaling deeply, Ivar takes in the moment and cements himself in it. Tomorrow will come and the cards will fall where they are fated. But for now, there would be no more talk of Oleg. He only had her for so long, he didn’t want to waste another moment. </p><p>Ivar frees one of his hands and dips a finger in the jar. Séraphine leans forward, enjoying the sensation of the honey spread against her lips. Before she can fully lick it up, Ivar’s lips cover hers again.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Troubled Prince</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings/ Themes: Oleg being possessive and aggressive, some neck grabbing. Oleg’s crazy is acting the fuck up this chapter. </p><p>This Chapter: Events start to unfold pretty quickly and there is alot happening this chapter, so we have our first very long chapter of this fic.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beyond the display with the heads at dinner, Oleg wasn’t vocal about Dir’s escape. Ivar and Séraphine both knew whatever he was up to, it was no good.</p><p>The Prince questioned them both, even Igor, and seemed content with their responses. But, one could never know with Oleg, that was the thing about him.</p><p>In the days leading up to their departure to Kattergat, Oleg began acting stranger than usual. Séraphine was used to his watching; he was like an Owl, perched and with eyes on everything.</p><p>But this was different, it was like he was waiting for her to slip up, to reveal a secret or prove something he knew in his gut was right. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to his prophecies?</p><p>When they were alone, Prince Oleg bragged about being The Prophet and how he knows all, like he was reminding her of something. Because of this, Séraphines first visit to Ivar’s room was also her last. </p><p>The two had to settle for stolen moments and brief kisses in the shadow. These small moments, though sweet, did little to quell her thirst. Séraphine longed to be alone with Ivar again, to be in his arms, his bed…</p><p>----Flashback to earlier in the day </p><p>Séraphine finishes the final touches of her dress as she looks in the mirror. Oleg, hanging back, sits at the end of the bed and silently observes. </p><p>After a long and tense silence, he speaks. “Why do you take these walks?” </p><p>Séraphine looks at him through the mirror, she keeps her expression still. </p><p> “I take Igor out, it’s not good for him to be locked in here all day.” </p><p>Oleg narrows his eyes and jumps to his feet loudly.  </p><p>Standing behind her, he places his palm flat against her lower stomach over the thick fabric. “when did you become so maternal?” he drops his voice even lower, “why have you never become pregnant?” </p><p>Séraphine breaks eye contact and  focuses on closing her belt. “I do not know. Perhaps I am not meant to be a mother.” </p><p>The Prince doesn’t reply. </p><p>Oleg rests his head on her left shoulder. He hums and moves his hand over the belt of her coat and pulls it tighter than it needs to be, Séraphine falls back into his chest but quickly regains her balance.</p><p>He continues in a deceptively soft tone, “It’s always the three of you. What do you talk about with Ivar, on these walks?”</p><p>“Oleg-” She starts to turn to face him, but Oleg holds her in place, his eyes trained on her facial expressions through the mirror. </p><p>Oleg brushes his lips against her ear, “I see the way he looks at you, the Cripple. Do you share those desires?” </p><p>Séraphine clenches her jaw and shoves the sick feeling in her stomach down. Keeping her eyes steady on his, she replies. </p><p>“ Igor likes Ivar to come. Beyond that I don’t know what to say. Any answer I give you won’t be good enough. We both know that.” She lifts his hand from her belt and slips out of his grip.</p><p>Making it only steps away from the door, Oleg grabs her arm, yanking her backward into his chest, he locks his arms around her shoulders. Séraphine tenses and his breath against her ear sends a different kind of shiver down her spine than she's used to. </p><p>His voice is cold and sharp when he speaks, “I warn you Séraphine, don’t betray me.” </p><p>Séraphine closes her eyes and takes a calming breath in then out. Trying her best to remain calm, she speaks to him while staying in place. </p><p>“ What could possibly occur on those walls? We are in your sights at all times, I see you, watching from the Balconys. We are both aware I can only speak to Igor,” he loosens his grip, allowing her to turn and face him, “there is only so much conversation I can have with the Viking.” </p><p>Olegs hard expression shifts into one of amusement.</p><p>“Still, my pet, you are a smart girl. Clever. I’m sure you’ve picked up some of the old language by this time.” He frees one of his hands to tap her left temple with his finger.</p><p>Séraphine raises an eyebrow at him, “even if I have, is it enough to hold some kind of ...grand conversation?” </p><p>Oleg laughs and cups the sides of her face with his palm. </p><p>“So much fire in you, simmering under the surface.” With his other hand, he grips her shoulder, “ Your eyes, something of the way you used to view me has returned. Perhaps you need a reminder of how good you have it.” Oleg slides his hand from her cheek to her chin and grips it tight. </p><p>When he gets no response, he grips tighter, “Perhaps I should take a wife. How would you like that? To share my attention with another?” his hand slides down to her neck and rests there a second. Séraphine doesn’t budge. Oleg stretches his fingers and grips a little tighter. </p><p>Séraphine heart is in her throat, her pulse is beating faster than she wants and she knows he can feel it. Still, she stands firm, swallowing back her anxiety. </p><p>“I don’t care.” She hisses between gritted teeth. </p><p>When Oleg laughs this time, there’s an edge to it, a darkness. Séraphine moves to release her neck but he only pulls her closer. </p><p>“And If I were to have her and make you watch? Would you care then?” His eyes burn into her soul. </p><p>Séraphine smirks and inches closer, getting in his face. “I said, I don’t care, my Prince.” </p><p>Oleg feels his body tense. His heart is pounding in his chest. Don’t care?  How could she say that to him? This was Ivar’s fault. She was changing, Ivar was changing her. </p><p>Séraphine prys his hand off her neck and takes a step back from him. </p><p>She speaks to him calmly and slowly, “I’m taking Igor out for a short while. I hope you are in better spirits when I return.” </p><p>Oleg stares off and she notices that far away look he gets sometimes. Walking backward, Séraphine reaches the door and puts her hand on the handle, her eyes still on him. </p><p>Holding her breath, she waits for a response but he doesn’t move, or reply. Opening the door quietly, she steps out and closes it behind her. </p><p>end of flashback....</p><p>Dinner that Night </p><p> </p><p>Oleg had been quiet all day, since the incident in the room that morning. He was more menacing than ever when he did that, it was better to have him talking, at least than you could figure out what was going on with him. </p><p>The Prince’s mood washed over everything, it seeped it’s claws into everything around him. The eerie silence spilled over into dinner, no one breaking the ice until Oleg raised his glass to get their attention. </p><p>His grin is wide as his eyes travel over their faces. “I have pleasurable news. I am to be married again. It is time.” </p><p>Ivar and Igor look at eachother, then back at Oleg. </p><p>Séraphine can’t tell if it's the stress or anxiety, but her previous ease at moving through the language shifts feels suddenly difficult. It takes her a little longer to realize which Oleg is speaking and when she can and can’t comment. </p><p>Old Norse, she thinks and hyper focuses on her food. This should be good news, right? But it didn’t feel that way. </p><p>Oleg circles the table, taking his sweet time to make his announcement. Oleg stops behind her, placing his heavy hand on her right shoulder with a squeeze.</p><p>“I will be married tomorrow!” The cheer in his voice only makes her more nervous. Nothing was simple with Oleg, there was something else, something more. </p><p>Séraphine keeps her eyes on her food, “If I am not required to be there, I prefer not to go.” </p><p>Oleg burst into laughter before taking a seat beside her. “Silly girl, a bride must attend her own wedding.” </p><p>Not believing her ears, Séraphines eyes fly open wide as she stares at him. </p><p>Oleg leans forward, “You heard me, the servants are perfecting your dress as we speak.” </p><p>She hears the words but her pulse is almost louder, her throat restricts and her eyes feel watery. She can’t see it, but Ivar looks at Igor who stares ahead in shock. Igor then turns to Ivar and translates, though Ivar was able to pick up some of it himself. </p><p>Like a cat, Oleg slowly turns his head to face Ivar, he switches to Norse. </p><p>“Séraphine and I will be married tomorrow, Ivar. She is my new bride.” </p><p>Ivar’s blue eyes are still, his lips parted slightly. Unsure of what to say, or what the torrent of feelings were rushing his body, he only nods. “Congratulations.” </p><p>Séraphine scrambles to her feet and heads for the doorway. Quick to his feet, Oleg follows and pulls her back into the room. </p><p>“Let go of me!” Séraphine pounds his chest with her firsts. Ivar grabs his crutches, trying to stand as quickly as possible; Igor helps him. </p><p>Oleg grabs hold of Séraphines wrists and flashes Ivar the angriest glare he’s ever given him.</p><p>“No! Don't interfere!” </p><p>Séraphing bites hard into Olegs hand, causing him to release her. Without looking at Ivar or Igor, she rushes out of the room. </p><p>Ivar heads toward the door but is stopped by a guard, the other forces Igor to sit back down. Oleg, now pacing the room angrily looks over his shoulder and orders the guard to stand down. </p><p>With heavy feet, Oleg closes the space between him and Ivar, he points his finger in his face. </p><p>“She doesn’t belong to you!” He yells, “She’s mine!” Ivar doesn’t reply, he only stares right back at Oleg. </p><p>Clenching his jaw, Ivar tries to calm himself, to stop himself from what he wants to do. But with three guards in the room, and one looming over Igor he knew he had to be smarter than that. </p><p>Oleg suddenly grabs Ivar's collar roughly, bunching it in his fist as Ivar almost loses his balance. </p><p>“You did this to her! You’re poisoning her!” Oleg yells.  </p><p>Ivar narrows his eyes at him and doesn’t raise his voice. “Prince Oleg, are you feeling alright?” </p><p>The question throws Oleg off. Confused, Oleg releases Ivar and takes a step back, his eyes moving quickly from left to right. </p><p>Ivar’s plan works. </p><p>Oleg walks to the end of the table and drops down on a cushion. Filling a glass with more wine, he knocks it back, drinking the whole thing. His grip on the stem is so tight, he may break the glass. </p><p>With his crutches, Ivar moves closer to Igor and whispers for him to go to his room. He doesn’t want him here, not now, not with Oleg like this. Igor listens and the guards let him leave. </p><p>Still not looking up, Oleg slams his hand hard on the table. Ivar waits, watches, but Oleg pays him no mind, he seems lost in his own head. </p><p>After a moment, Ivar makes his way to the door. “I’m going to bed.” </p><p>Oleg nods, not looking up at him. He pours himself another glass of wine. </p><p>With raised brows and on alert, Ivar leaves the room. </p><p>Once he’s in the hall, Ivar takes a deep breath in and out, his body buzzing with anger and anxiety. He knows it's a risk, but he had to see if she was okay, even if he only could from a distance. </p><p>As he walks to her room, he thinks about the way Oleg stayed so close the last few weeks. Maybe they weren’t being as secretive as they thought, or, maybe Oleg did sense things. Either way, they both knew this could happen but it was a risk they took anyway. Oleg needed to do more to claim Séraphine as his, and a marriage would do just that. </p><p>When Ivar reaches her room, there are no guards and the door is open. He can see her on the bed, face down as she cries in the pillows, Igor on the bed beside her as he pats her back.<br/>
“ I don’’t want to marry him.” Séraphine’s voice is muffled by the pillows, but he can still hear her cries. </p><p>Igor’s concerned eyes meet his, Séraphine sits up. It breaks Ivars heart seeing her like this, the sadness and defeat in her eyes made him feel helpless.</p><p>She wipes her eyes, “ you can’t be here, he’ll lose his mind.” </p><p>Ivar leans into the doorframe, eyes soft on hers. After a second, he walks further into the room, and Igor peaks out behind him, feeling nervous. Ivar comes close enough to whisper, then stops. </p><p>“I promise, one day I’ll get you out of here Séraphine.” </p><p>His eyes are moist now and a shade of blue she’s never seen before. Ivar forces a small smile for her before leaving the room. </p><p>…</p><p>The Next Day </p><p>With a tight jaw, Ivar watches the wedding unfold, Igor at his side. Oleg insisted they stand right there, close enough to the bride and groom to touch them; Oleg was mocking him. Ivars heavy heartbeat never let up, nor did the sour taste in his mouth. </p><p>Séraphine was a haunted sight, so beautiful and gentle in the delicate fabric of the dress and cloth over her hair. But her eyes, they were the darkest he’s ever seen them, her expression as still as one of Olegs puppets. </p><p>The need to flee and take her with him ran rampant in his mind, but he had to be reaslistc. What could he really do? He wouldn’t make it any farther than the hallway. In this game, Oleg had the winning move and Ivar had to go back to the drawing board. </p><p>What sank his heart the most was the fact they were leaving, setting sail to see his homeland before battle. He hated having to leave her like this, but he knew, there was no way Oleg would let him stay behind unless he was already dead. </p><p>Ivar knew, by time they returned he had to have a plan. He would have to calm Olegs paranoia and buy time to make his move. And if he was lucky, he would make it out of here alive with Séraphine and Igor at his side.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Chapter: Oh it’s been a long break and I have missed this story. I hope those following have too. We cover a few things this chapter, including Séraphines state of mind, some flashbacks and a dream/nightmare sequence.  </p><p>AN: During this time, Oleg and Ivar are away in efforts to take over Kattergat. This is sort of lined up with the show events, but not exactly.  In this fic, they take only one trip there, instead of two. In the next upcoming chapter, the guys return from Kattegat, and Ivar lovers, we see him again. </p><p>Warnings: Angst, a forced marriage, Séraphine might be depressed</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flashback - Dream </p><p>Séraphine shivers, the chill from the harsh air hits her bones, even though all the layers. Without her needing to ask, Ivar peels off his outer layer and places it across her shoulders. <br/>It starts to snow. </p><p>Ivar watches as she lifts her hand and lets a snowflake vanish in her palm. Her hands were beautiful, just like the rest of her. Long, smooth, with fine fingers and long nails. She wore a gold ring on her left index finger, and one on her right middle finger. </p><p>Séraphine watches the sky, then pulls her gaze back to Ivar. “This must be easier for you Ivar, this cruel weather. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the cold.” </p><p>Ivar pulls her hand into his, warming her skin with his own. They lock eyes. “Seraphine, your homeland, what was it like?” </p><p>She smiles wide, it's like the sun found their little spot and blessed them with her rays. </p><p>“Warm. Sunny. The opposite of this place. Here, a winter night never ends. Back home? It’s the perfect summer on a loop.” </p><p>Ivars lips move as he starts to respond but stops. </p><p>Séraphine frees her other hand from the warmth under the coat to touch his face, “Ivar, what’s wrong?”</p><p>When he doesn’t respond, she follows his line of sight to find Oleg in the open doorway. His eyes are dark and hateful as he takes heavy steps toward them. </p><p>Her heart races. She can see her breath in the cold air. They both stand, Ivar moves her behind him. She holds onto his arms tight. </p><p>“Ivar, what do we do?” She whispers, Oleg stalks closer. </p><p>Everything slows down; the snow, their breathing. Séraphine shakes Ivar. He takes his time turning to face her and Oleg stops in his tracks. </p><p>She mutters in her language under her breath, an old prayer her mother used to say. Something was off, this was no longer the flashback of that sweet moment they shared before the men left. Oleg never walked in on them. Something was wrong here.<br/>Ivar’s eyes are almost clear now, it frightens her. He mouths the words, “don’t be afraid.” <br/>She is. </p><p>Ivar reaches behind his ear and reveals a card, a smile on his lips. Hesitant, she carefully takes it from his hands and turns it over to reveal the image. </p><p>Her lips move, her voice just above a whisper, “2 of spades” </p><p>Ivar leans forward, “what does it mean?” </p><p>“Locked swords...a rift..disapointment.” Séraphine lowers her head, studying the details of the card. “We must be more careful than ever Ivar.” </p><p>He slowly presses his index finger against his lips, “Shhhhh.” </p><p>A faint dizzy feeling overcomes her. Séraphine settles her hazy gaze on Oleg, he too had his finger against his lips, a hint of mischief in his cocoa brown eyes. </p><p>Was Oleg a man? Or a Jackel? Maybe something in between. </p><p>She notices a slight shaking in his shoulders as a menacing chuckle leaves his thraot. Before she can speak, or turn to Ivar, she feels herself pulled away by a force she cannot see. </p><p>End of flashback/dream - </p><p>Waking with a sharp gasp, Séraphine shoots up in the bed. Breathing heavily, she can see a layer of sweat on her chest and the moisture on the collar of her night dress. </p><p>Nervously, her eyes shift to the empty space beside her. Then she remembers, Oleg is gone. Ivar is gone. </p><p>They’ve been away for three days now. Three days she should have rested and found some peace. So often she wished to be away from Oleg, only to suffer nightmares in his absence. </p><p>Perhaps it was the guilt, for what Ivar and her were doing? She was afraid of what Oleg would do; to her, to Ivar, to Igor. No one was safe when he was in a desperate mood. </p><p>Kicking off the sheets, Séraphine lets her feet touch the ground. The chill is welcomed, she lingers there a moment to warm her hot skin. </p><p>Climbing out of the bed, she walks over to her desk and lights a candle. She watches the flame for a moment, then looks at her cards. She had so many questions to ask, so many things she wanted to know. </p><p>Lately, her ability to dream future events was drowned out, suppressed with all the nightmares and terrors. All she had now was the wisdom of the cards. </p><p>Séraphine had to clear her mind somehow, to find her center. She knew, there was no way to survive all this unhinged, she had to pull herself together again. </p><p>As she shuffles the cards, she hears her mothers voice in her head. </p><p>When you ask too many questions the answers become riddles, abstract, at times purposely unclear. </p><p>She sounds so real, so close. Tears well up in Séraphines eyes.</p><p>Séraphine puts the cards down, deciding instead to write. She opens a drawer and retrieves a scroll of paper and ink to write. Sitting at her desk, she prepares to write, the inked feather in one hand. </p><p>Dear mother, </p><p>This is an unwelcoming place, in every way you can imagine. Even the embroidered arches, expensive furniture, and deep reds are sharp in nature. There is a chill in the most vibrant of colors, even the gold. </p><p>I’ve been captured, like a bird taken from flight. I dream of spreading my wings, or remembering how to fly. Yet, do I? Did I ever really know? I barely started when the raid came. </p><p>Father had a plan for me, he caged me too. Now, here I am, married to a man worse than the one Father chose. The Prince is a devil with a handsome face. A devil who locked his final cuff on me, marriage. I fear he will force me to have children. </p><p>I’m so tired now I haven’t made the potion...if I am not careful, I might end up with his child. He has no knowledge of this of course, I’ve hidden it well. </p><p>One night, in great anger I almost made a grave mistake, I almost revealed my secret, one of my secrets. Thankfully, with just a knowing look, Ivar stopped me. Ivar, I’ve yet to tell you about him. I will. </p><p>I write as if you are alive because I pray you are. Mother, I finally understand love. How it feels, how it tastes, the way it changes your heartbeat and your breathing. It may be too soon, I may be foolish, but I know what I feel in my heart. </p><p>Yet, I remain torn. My love could mean death, or worse. It pains me. My choice, though dangerous, is an easy one. Yet, no matter how much I lie to myself, I am ashamed to say, for all I dislike about the Prince - </p><p>I won’t entertain those thoughts now. Besides, when I look at him now I see the man who took my life away from me in that small alleyway. I no longer see the man I grew complacent with. Maybe, I was just blind the whole time, and it took a stranger to help me see Oleg again, clearly. </p><p>I fear the extent of his actions once he finds out, I know he will. I question his sanity all the time, but I cannot deny he is wise with a strong sense, despite the madness. To be honest, I don’t care what he does to me. But, Ivar? Igor? It hurts me to wonder. </p><p>Séraphine blinks away tears and stops writing. With a sniffle, she sets everything down and wipes her eyes. </p><p>Maybe a bath will help? She asks herself. </p><p>Hiding the letter where it can dry, and is out of sight, she makes her way to the tub for a bath. Passing the lounge seat by the wall, she catches sight of one of Olegs tunics, the last one he wore before he left. </p><p>Was it always there? Had she been so out of it since the wedding she overlooked it, or forgot? Or was he haunting her, even from afar? </p><p>Séraphine sits and gazes out the window, finding no sun to greet her. Just a white unforgiving landscape with life moving about unbothered. </p><p>Séraphine picks up the dark tunic, draping it across her lap. She runs the pads of her fingers over the embroidered leaves. </p><p>Flashback </p><p>The tension in her muscles finally relaxes, she’s never been more thankful for hot water than now. Even in her buzzed state, the wine wasn’t enough to completely calm her stress. </p><p>It was quiet down here, empty. She wonders why in all her time here, she never used this hidden gem. Perhaps it's because she loved the one in her room so much. </p><p>Séraphine takes another sip of wine, hoping it will fade her memory and make the previous 24 hours seem like a dream. Before she can place the glass down, familiar footsteps approach. </p><p>Not wanting to leave, she stays put and hopes this will go quickly. </p><p>“My pet, what a sight you are. Naked and bathing, the steam dancing around you.” Oleg grins and makes quick work of removing his clothing. “I’ve neglected you today. I apologize.” </p><p>“You were busy planning. It’s fine.” She replies in a flat tone. </p><p>Oleg enters the bath with a sigh, sitting across from her. Séraphine keeps her eyes on the water, not wanting to look at him. </p><p>Oleg hums, a content look on his face as he massages her bent knees. “I’ve given you everything, havent I? Or is there more you want?” </p><p>Séraphine looked at him head on, her expression still. </p><p>“What do you really want, Séraphine?” The softness in his eyes is deceiving, she knows she can’t answer such a question. </p><p>She licks her lips and shrugs, “I don’t know, Oleg.” </p><p>Oleg searches her eyes and studies her face. After a moment, her expression unchanged, he relaxes back further and opens his arms wide. “Come here.” </p><p>A distant look washes over her eyes as she adjusts in the tub to rest her back against his chest. Pleased, Oleg wraps one arm firmly around her. He takes her other hand, guiding back to the nape of his neck. </p><p>He liked this. He often fell asleep with her fingers in his hair. He takes a few deep breaths before he speaks again. </p><p>“My pet, do you know what I want?” </p><p>She shakes her head no. </p><p>Oleg continues, “I want the impossible. I want to go back into my mothers womb.” His words catch her off guard, she glances back at him. He has that faraway look in his eyes, mixed with something somber, “I want to float there, in that small limitless universe, among the stars...with no beginning, no end. Waitng for the new world to begin. I know we have all been here before” a sideways smile forms on his lips, “we are constantly reborn.” </p><p>His eyes meet hers. Séraphines raises her brows. Despite the weirdness of it all, it was pretty reflective, something she didn’t expect from him. </p><p>The twisted angle starts to become uncomfortable, she returns to her previous position. As she adjusts her hand, the glint of the ring catches her eye, that rock in the pit of her stomach returns. </p><p>Oleg plants a kiss on her shoulder, a warmth in his voice when he speaks. “I know we will be victorious in gaining Kattegat,” he reaches in the water and takes her hand, Oleg admires the way the ring looks on her finger, “it is fate.” </p><p>Séraphine becomes anxious, shifting in between his legs. Every time she glances down at her finger she can’t help but feel bound, cursed, chained. </p><p>“Don’t worry my beautiful wife, I will return before you know it.” Oleg whispers from behind her. Séraphine shuts her eyes. The look on Ivars face at the wedding replays in her mind and the sick feeling creeps up to her throat. </p><p>- End of flashback - </p><p>Séraphines torn away from the flashback as her door opens. Igor hurries in with excitement in his big brown eyes, a small carved figure in his left hand. </p><p>“What’s taking you so long? I started without you.” </p><p>His enthusiasm makes her smile, it's a slight respite from the clouds hovering over her. </p><p>Apologetic, she stands and slips on a long robe. “I’m sorry, I forgot. It’s my own fault, I’m...distracted.” </p><p>Igor smiles, “and you are forgiven,” he walks back to the door, “ hurry, get dressed.” </p><p>“Yes yes,” smiling still, she holds the door open as he steps out. She  catches a glance of the two guards in the hallway, the same two Oleg surely assigned to make sure she didn’t run away while he was gone. </p><p>Shooting them a cold look, she refocuses on Igor. “I will be there in five minutes. I promise.” </p><p>He nods and disappears down the hall. Séraphine closes the heavy doors. </p><p>Maybe carving small figures with Igor was the best medicine she could ask for right now. Feeling a little lighter, she proceeds to get dressed.</p>
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